Show me the roses that grow above the thorns.
Show me the beauty that comes in many forms.
Show me the silk that overcomes the pricks.
Show me the red among the rugged sticks.
Show me the truth that overcomes the lie.
Show me the reason why Jesus Christ would die.
Show me the victory of You over death;
Thus would I give, till nothing I’d have left.
And yet, give me grace to live alone by faith.
Why wait to obey until it looks safe?
Why wait for sight to know there’s roses there?
Why wait for beauty to reflect Jesus fair?
For it’s then I find that…
It’s easiest to feel the thorns when reaching for a rose,
Cutting deep, showing flaws, and leaving us to foes.
And in our pain, we cry out, and find that by our call
We find Jesus, the finest rose of all.